


Butterfly Effects

by Annaelle, Juulna



Series: War Is Won With Iron [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, F/M, Female Tony Stark, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, M/M, Matching Tags to Main Fic but here are the main ones:, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Iron Man 2, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annaelle/pseuds/Annaelle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juulna/pseuds/Juulna
Summary: [Summary from main fic:] Toni Stark never - not even once - had a soulmark appear. Not one she can remember, at any rate. But when one finally appears, and the date of her rendezvous seems impossible to meet, does she decide to move on with her life, and forget the words written upon her skin?Of course not. She's Toni fucking Stark. Making the impossible possible is practically her family motto.~Outtakes, missing or deleted scenes, bloopers, and other assorted words that didn't quite fit for whatever reason intoHanging From a Cross of Iron.~
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: War Is Won With Iron [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856611
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47





	1. 9/11 Discussion (Alt. chapter 27)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to any of you who finds this! I hope you're keeping as well as can be in These Times. I'm doing pretty well myself, and riding a good mood as long and well as I can.
> 
> Over the course of the last, uh... wow, 3 years... I've amassed a fair few scenes, short and long alike, which didn't quite make it into my main fic, [Hanging From a Cross of Iron](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11727852/chapters/26423031). Some of them are ideas I had which didn't quite pan out, or scenes I wrote for far in the future of the fic, despite being dozens of chapters away from that point, and then didn't use because I went a completely different direction. Or there are scenes like this first one I'm sharing, which I imagine still happened to some degree, but just didn't fit well into the tone or the flow of what I wanted to share as the 'official canon' of this universe. 
> 
> I'll post these every so often, at least the scenes I'm not horribly embarrassed over (some are... really not so great :P), so keep an eye out! Thanks, as always, go to my amazing friend and beta and virtual life partner, [Annaelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annaelle/pseuds/Annaelle) ([@cuthian on Tumblr](https://cuthian.tumblr.com/)). [I'm on Tumblr as @juuls](https://juuls.tumblr.com/).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warnings for this first installation, which is an alternate to chapter 27: Mildly detailed discussion about what occurred on 9/11. Toni's opinions do not necessarily reflect my own.**
> 
> Nothing is canon to my universe unless stated.
> 
> Stay safe and sane, loves. <3

Antonia Stark was goddamn beautiful. 

Obviously in her element, surrounded by a vibrant blue that matched her arc reactor, Toni looked like a goddess, and Steve’s fingers _ached_ for pencil and paper—no, for paints he had only ever dreamed of, to capture every shade and shadow and highlight, the true color of the blue as it lit her skin from all sides. The gorgeous glossy black of her hair as it curled around her beautiful face and cascaded around and past her shoulders, down to her mid back, and Steve had never before felt such an urge to bury his hands into the hair of someone other than Bucky, to grip and twist and hold her still so he could kiss the taste of coffee from out of her mouth…

Good lord, she was amazing. 

She was also… a bit of a mess.

Even though she looked beautiful doing it, she was frantically sorting through screens, occasionally muttering words he barely heard from this distance, let alone understood, biting her lip in between in a spectacularly distracting way—at least to his rather… _future-_ addled brain. 

He hadn’t quite been able to grasp anything to his satisfaction yet. Not that he really had anything _to_ grasp, yet. All he’d managed to do was stumble out of an empty bed not even ten minutes ago, following JARVIS’ instructions to where Toni was ensconced in her lab a few floors down, looking with _wide_ eyes at his surroundings—brain able to make sense of a fair bit of it, but still realizing just how _unreal_ everything he saw appeared to him in the moment—and then Steve had found himself absolutely _arrested_ by the sight of her, so all he’d done since arriving at her workshop was stand in the open doorway and take her in.

She hadn’t even realized Steve was there. But that was okay. He smiled.

“I don’t know where to start,” Toni groaned, her words finally loud enough for him to understand. She raked one hand back through her hair, tangling the curls over top of her head in a startlingly fetching manner, then blindly reached down to grab her mug from off her desk in order to throw back the remaining dregs of her coffee.

“Why don’t you ask JARVIS?” Steve interjected quickly, sensing his opportunity and striking quickly, before she could get lost in her head again.

She was… something else, that was for sure. A force he realized now he’d only ever had a glimpse of before. He’d never seen her where she _truly_ belonged.

Here.

Here in this beautiful, astonishing, mind-boggling, but _fascinating_ workshop, partially constructed as it may be, Toni was… radiant. Calm, in a way, in that he sensed an inner peace, a contentment, within her, compared to how she had been back in… back _then_.

Yes, even when she was about to drive the both of them crazy.

“Miss,” JARVIS interrupted before that could happen, after long seconds had passed without Toni realizing Steve’s presence. Steve smiled again, hand lifting to cover his mouth without even realizing it. “I believe Captain Rogers had an excellent idea: I do in fact have a primer of information compiled for him already, to be reviewed in his own time. Though I do recommend that be sooner rather than later.”

Toni whipped around to face the door, startled, eyes wide and beautiful, though they quickly darkened with guilt. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, striding towards him confidently despite her words. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up,” she clarified as she came to a stop in front of him. She looked a little awkward, standing there, as if she didn’t really know what to do with herself all of a sudden.

Steve blinked. He could admit that he _had_ wondered, but it wasn’t like he’d _expected_ her to be there when he woke up. With… with Bucky, it was always a gift when he’d woken up at his side, their schedules never coinciding back in Brooklyn and the war… well, that was a world all its own, with no rules Steve had ever expected—or wanted—to apply to his civilian life.

He had no clue how to put that into words.

So he didn’t try. Not now, not yet. Not about Bucky, at least. It was still too painful to voice aloud anything to do with him, even to Toni.

Her smile and stance softened, however; she understood, a little. As much as she could through their slowly stabilizing bond. Re… bond?

Something.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Steve finally settled on. 

She relaxed completely, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. Obviously he’d said something right; something pleasing, even. “Yeah, but still, it was kinda rude of me not to at least leave a note or something. You’re my guest, and uh, sorta at my mercy? As much as Captain America can be at anyone’s mercy, I suppose,” she added thoughtfully, tilting her head.

He flicked his lips up into a smile, and for the first time in a long while, found it reaching his eyes. Just a little, and for a brief moment before it faded away, but it was a start.

“Can you…?” He gestured around him with both hands, indicating the workshop laid out in front of him.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, a little loudly but excitedly, and proceeded to drag him around her domain. 

He was in awe from the start, the big room taking up the entirety of the floor and two stories of the building they were in, besides—come to think of it, he didn’t even _really_ know where here was, or how high up in the building they were, or, really, a lot of things—and it was bigger and more fantastical than the dingy warehouse in London where Howard Stark had been based out of. 

Most of the room was still in boxes—including a large one labelled DUM-E that Toni said he would love when she finally took the time to put him together… whoever _he_ was—but the bones of the room had been laid in as the rest of the Tower had been constructed, and she’d had a special branch of her R&D team in here setting up her holoprojectors and anything else that had to be wired or plumbed or grounded or any countless number of other things that flew right over Steve’s head.

He had to admit that he was feeling a little… dazed, was probably the right word, and Toni, seeming to realize at approximately the same time as Steve did, finally guided him right out of the workshop, into the elevator, and back into the apartment at the top of the building that he’d come out of… well, who knew how long ago.

“Food, I have to have some food around here somewhere,” Toni muttered to herself as she shoved Steve—gently—onto the couch. She wandered off towards the kitchen, but Steve was arrested by the view in front of him, completely forgetting the hunger that had started clawing at his stomach in the workshop without him noticing.

New York City.

Toni had never actually _said_ he was in New York, but he had sort of… assumed he was there, if that made any sense? He’d felt like he was somewhere safe, somewhere warm, he had a soulmate at his side… he had only ever equated that with _home_ , and home was New York.

Well, Brooklyn.

From the look of the skyline, he was somewhere in Manhattan, though the view was actually rather alien to him, despite him recognizing key features. Steve stepped closer to the floor to ceiling, wall to wall window, the tips of his bare toes touching the glass as he slowly panned his gaze across the horizon and the nearby buildings alike.

It was at once familiar and different, the slight changes enough to make him feel as if something was wrong, something buzzing just beneath the surface of his skin, an itch that he couldn’t quite scratch…

It was home, alien, past, future, comforting, and disconcerting. And so many other things clawing at the back of Steve’s mind that he knew he just couldn’t afford to give into right then.

The city laid out before him was his home, though. That, Steve _knew_ . It might be a slightly altered home, but it was still _New York_. Toni had told him once—and intimated enough other times—that New Yorkers from all five boroughs were still mostly, basically the same. That the landscape may change, buildings come and go, but the heart of New York was still its people, and the people were both always evolving, and never changing.

It made sense to a New Yorker, that was all that mattered, and remembering that brought him some small measure of comfort as he caught sight of familiar landmarks and brought his gaze south. There was the elegant beauty of the Chrysler building, a lot closer than he’d expected it to be, and he revised his location to Midtown Manhattan, Brooklyn visible only as a large swath of mostly featureless and amorphous bundles of buildings and tenements and stores, even to his eyes.

Home.

Or what used to be home.

“You mean I get to finally talk to one of the _actual_ Wakandans soon? For realsies?” Toni’s excited voice broke into his introspective—and somewhat bittersweet—thoughts. He glanced her way, stepping to the side a little as she almost smooshed into his shoulder.

....

“What’s that one over there?” Steve asked, pointing towards the building that had caught his eye towards the south.

Toni was quiet for a long moment before finally answering him. Steve glanced over at her, and was surprised to see sorrow creasing her features. “Freedom Tower,” she began slowly. “Otherwise known as One World Trade Center.” Her lips thinned and the slight lines around her eyes tightened as she gazed solemnly on the largest skyscraper Steve had ever before seen.

“What is it?” Steve asked. He meant both the building and whatever it was that was bothering her.

“I…” She looked unsure of herself, and he felt a flash of worry from her, but then she straightened her posture and seemed to steel herself against the words that were about to come out.

Good, she wasn’t treating him as if he were made of glass; as if he were one small drop away from splintering into a hundred pieces. He couldn’t imagine what she was about to say, what was so _painful_ about the building in question, but now his curiosity was overwhelming the—admittedly very small, and seldom used—part of his brain that was blaring warning signs at him, telling him to back off, that he didn’t want to know.

“Ten years ago,” Toni started again, even slower this time, with her eyes losing focus as she stared into the middle distance between her and the skyscraper in question. “Well, the story really starts many years before that, but isn’t that true of any major event in history?”

The hair on the back of Steve’s neck practically stood right on end, and he had to lock his muscles so that he wouldn’t reflexively reach back to place his hand there. Her words left him wondering, _worrying_ , about what she was going to say next. A major event…

“There was an attack.” She sounded as if she were lost in a memory, but still trying to be careful with her words. After everything they’d seen, everything they’d been through together, everything she knew he’d seen during the war… she was still hesitant to tell him _this_? “There were two large towers there,” she continued, “built in the ‘60s, so you wouldn’t know them, that’s a minor blessing I suppose… Ugh, there’s no easy way of saying this, but you’ll find out eventually. I just hate that you asked about the one thing I would’ve left you to learn about for a while yet.” She paused. “JARVIS, you had 9/11 in the folder for Steve, yeah? Where’d you place it?”

“I had a lock on the file in question until he’d at the very least read about the Cold War, Miss,” the familiar enough voice replied easily. 

“A good spot…” Toni muttered to herself, before turning to face Steve and looking him dead in the eye. “You’re strong. I know you are. But this was just… three thousand dead, something like twenty five thousand injured. September 11th, 2001 is a date that’s been engraved in blood into the human consciousness—not just here, but around the world. We went to war for it, and that in and of itself is complicated enough even _I_ have trouble following it, and I lived through it.”

“How?” was all Steve could manage, brain practically frozen as it tried to process the facts. It was… it was _nothing_ in the face of the numbers dead and injured in the war, but this was an attack on the heart of America itself, nearly unprecedented since the colonial era.

Her eyes shuttered just a little, brief enough he almost missed it. “They flew planes into two towers where that one now stands, collapsing and setting fire to nearly a dozen other buildings. Another was flown into the Pentagon, but it still stands. It was able to rebuild. A fourth flight… the passengers overpowered the hijackers, but the plane was still brought down with all souls. They were heroes though, because they managed to crash the plane down into a field, rather than whatever its intended target was. The White House, some suspect, since it was only about twenty minutes from D.C. It just…”

Steve moved the few steps to the large couch facing the window and sat down heavily. He felt a ringing in his ears, and his vision went a little hazy at the edges. He was trying to process it all, trying to wrap his mind around who, what, how, _why_ all this could happen, but the ringing morphed into a rushing whine, wind speed increasing around the ever-increasing rattling frame of the _Valkyrie_ as it started to shake apart, Steve holding onto the controls with just… _just_ enough strength to direct it ever northward, away from New York, away from his homeland, away from innocent lives that could so easily be snuffed out. Not a one of them aware of their deaths having been so closely averted.

“I’m sorry,” a voice broke into the noise, just as the remembered sounds of the impact started to flood into his mind. It broke him out of the chaos, and the hand cupping his cheek pulled him out the rest of the way. He looked up into Toni’s concerned eyes, her hair falling in a black curtain around the two of them as she leaned over him. It was… Steve struggled to put words to the feeling, the feeling of the close space with someone he… someone he _loved_ , blocking out the noise and pain and emotions and so many other sensory inputs that threatened to overwhelm him in that moment.

Steve reached up and wrapped one hand around the back of Toni’s neck, the other gently and slowly clasping around her other hand, and pulled her closer. Her hair wrapped around them as their foreheads touched, and he closed his eyes, focusing on the scent, the feel, the presence of his soulmate. Their bond thrummed and sparked between them as they breathed.

“I was in Malibu at the time, being an idiot, really, but New York is still in my blood. It’s in my bones. In that moment, the world became one with us. The world _became_ American, in a way that was just… unprecedented. It was the first major attack of the internet age—that thing JARVIS explained to you back in Antwerp, do you remember? It was everywhere within minutes, and the world held its collective breath. The world _mourned_ with us. It was both beautiful and terrible, and even now, all these years later, after the wars that followed the attack—whether justified or not—and even after seeing World War Two in person, I still have trouble wrapping my brain around the horror of that day.”

“Who?” Steve breathed out the question, his mind numb but clearing up with each passing second.

“He’s dead now. Just barely over a month ago, actually,” Toni said with a hint of righteous, vindictive glee. He could understand that—seeing Schmidt dissolve in the blue-white glow of the Tesseract had nearly made Steve laugh with the thrill and the relief of it. To kill the one responsible for so much death…

“Good,” Steve said, after swallowing down the _very_ inappropriate urge to laugh.

He was… definitely not doing as well as he expected of himself. He was _not_ handling this the way that anyone expected Captain America to react.

But the good thing about Toni, Steve realized in a moment of true clarity, of overwhelming _feeling_ , was that she didn’t ever expect him to be Captain America. She saw him for who he really was. She saw Captain America, she saw the regular soldier, she saw Steve Rogers, and she saw _Steve_ . She didn’t see him the same way that Bucky did, but he didn’t expect that; he didn’t _want_ that. He wanted her to see him in her own way.

He pulled Toni down beside him with gentle hands, and she tucked herself into the crook of his arm, ear pressed against his heart. Her simple contentment at the touch, the embrace, filled their bond. Even though he knew at least part of it was Toni deliberately trying to calm him—through the bond, but also through the gentle touch of her fingers as they stroked over the skin of his face and the fabric of his shirt—he still welcomed it. He knew he needed it; he knew he didn’t quite have the capacity to fully comprehend everything he’d been told.

Steve wasn’t sure how he could have managed any of this at all, any of this knowledge, or the forbidding thought of all the things he had yet to learn or be told, without Toni.

He could barely live without Bucky, but Toni was at least a light in the darkness.

Steve pressed his face into Toni’s hair and breathed in deeply. “I’m okay,” he finally mumbled into her hair. “It’s… there’s so much more to ask about it, about this… 9/11 you called it?” She hummed softly in affirmation. “There’s a lot to learn before I can fully wrap my mind around it, and I know it’s not going to be easy. I don’t even know where to begin, but that’s where JARVIS comes in, right?” His lips twitched into a slight smile. “And you. I’m glad you’re here with me on this journey. You and JARVIS both. I’ll need you.” 

He paused, then practically whispered, “I think I’ll always need you.”

Toni pulled back, looking him in the eyes for a long minute, hardly blinking. Then, a pretty smile, a small one, tugged at her lips. “You can do this. I know you can. But first…” She trailed off, turning to look at a large black rectangle that was recessed in the wall to the left of the windows. “Let me show you one of the beautiful things about the modern world. You said you’ve seen _The Wizard of Oz_ , right? Well, prepare to have your mind _blown_.”

She grinned at him, and Steve couldn’t help it; the grin was infectious—he grinned back. Plus, _yes_ he’d seen that movie. As many times as he’d been able to afford. It was _brilliant_. Curiosity at what she could possibly intend flowed through him; rejuvenated him. “Show me what you got,” he said easily, shoving his worries into the back of his mind. 

There was so much more still that he needed to know, that he knew for sure. But, well… Bucky had taught him a few things, drilled a few things right into his brain until he had no choice but to learn. Or try, at least. He’d never been great at self care, wanting to throw himself into and fix every problem—small scale or as big as the world itself—but he knew that he couldn’t do so without the proper information. And his brain was in _zero_ condition to get the lay of the land in 2011, apparently, after his slide into panic and shell shock had demonstrated.

He needed to rest, even if just a little longer.

 _See Bucky, sometimes I_ can _choose to care for myself_ , he thought. His eyes widened as JARVIS turned _on_ the black box and the beautiful technicolor images of _The Wizard of Oz_ started to fill the screen.

It was both familiar and alien, but the latter was a beautiful sort of foreign to Steve. One he wanted to learn more about. About how the box worked, about what other innovations there were—Toni’s half-completed workshop notwithstanding, because he was pretty sure that the workshop alone held more innovation than the world could handle at this moment—out in the world, about how it affected people’s lives.

He wanted to _learn_. He craved it.

But for now… for now he could sink into the familiar sounds and images of a beautiful film made both a bare few years _and_ decades ago.

For now he could hold Toni against him with one arm, and feel her breaths play across his chest as she sunk further into sleep.

For now he could let his brain go numb. Just a little bit.

He had all the time in the world for so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my writing progress and any updates I might have [here on my pinned Tumblr post](https://juuls.tumblr.com/post/620385294601076737/pinned-writing-updates-hiya-folks-with-this).
> 
> Other fem!Tony fic(s) of mine:  
> [Primal as the Sapphire Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20452211)
> 
> If you liked this, please consider leaving a comment and/or kudos. Thanks so much for your support! <3


	2. Fort Breendonk: Discarded Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Content warning: mild discussion of the horrors of WWII, such as the prison of Breendonk in Belgium, and the wider horrors of the Holocaust later in this draft.**
> 
> Unfortunately this one didn't quite fit with the flow of the fic at the time, but there are a looooot of feels here that I regret not being able to fully include. Ah well. Here is one of my rejected drafts for chapter 17! Still quite pleased with it as a series of scenes. :)
> 
> Take care, all. <3

**November 20 th, 1944, Fort Breendonk, Belgium**

“Why are we even doing this?” Toni whined for the fifth time, like the big baby Bucky had learned she was over the last few hours.

He rolled his eyes but shared a laugh with Steve. “Because, Toni. Everyone does.”

“But the bond was settling,” she grumbled. “And I was perfectly content with _ignoring it_ , thank you very much.” The last was muttered with the hope of them not hearing it, and so he and Steve—somewhat politely—ignored the latter.

“Sure it was, but it never hurts to learn anyway, just in case,” he replied in his most patient tone, learned from _long_ practice with Steve.

The two of them were more alike than they expected.

“Yeah, yeah, you said that already,” she grumbled.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “And _you_ asked the same question already. Five times.”

It was Toni’s turn to roll her eyes at them, and she stuck her tongue out as well, before looking out the back of the truck again.

For all that she _mentioned_ the bond, that was the most she’d come to acknowledging it in specific words. Their bond was finally entering the settled stage, yes, which meant that between her and the two of them they wouldn’t feel much unless it was projected.

It would go away completely—the amount of time varied—if they didn’t want to confirm the bond, but until then…

Well. It didn’t hurt to learn.

…

Until then… well, he’d keep watching her. Because there was something _off_.

Something… suspicious about the way Toni was acting, that is.

Suspicious not in a _bad_ way, per se. Not like he was suspecting her of any wrong-doing or anything. But suspicious in the way that there wasn’t something quite right.

Mind you, they didn’t know the dame super well, but even _Steve_ —and that was saying something—could tell that there was something _off_ with this woman.

Bucky was a little worried.

But not _overly_ so. Just enough that he would be sure to pay close attention—as much as they could in an active war zone—and try to make sense of the different actions, reactions, and words.

She was giving them what she said she would—space, backing off, being their friend—and boy, when she said she’d do something… she damn well _did it_.

Even so, he knew there was something—he could feel her hesitance and her… her _yearning_ for _something_ in light flickers before she’d shut it all down. Nothing but a smile on her face, laughter on her lips, and enough light in her eyes that it _almost_ completely overshadowed the _hint_ of sadness still visible within.

It would probably be all they would get for now, unless something sudden or overwhelming occurred, because she had taken to their lessons about bond blocking like a fish to water. And she seemed the sort to want to block her brain from unnecessary prying.

It had taken Bucky two _weeks_ after Steve had touched his skin for the first time after the serum, to re-establish his control of the more powerful bond the serum seemed to lend them.

It had taken Toni two _hours_ once they started.

“How are you so good at this?” he blurted out. 

Toni simply looked at him, arching an eyebrow. “It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”

“Well, yes, but it took me ages to get the hang of it. And you’ve done it in... way less. Way, way less.”

“Honestly? My brain is a bit of a mess most of the time. So most people who know me a little, know that I’m flighty, manic, prone to drifting and rambling and completely being unable to concentrate.” She twisted her lips in wry amusement. “But once I decide to concentrate, I own it. People forget that about me. Underestimate me. Think because I’m a flirt, a playgirl, an eccentric, occasionally too obsessed with fashion and looks when I want to be... they forget that I’m a tomboy as well as a femme, forget that I straddle the line, that there’s two sides of me. Forget that my brain has been with me longer than my looks, smarter than them before I was ten, some of them even earlier than that.”

She stated it like simple fact, not quite boasting. Not really, and that made her... a curious thing indeed, to Bucky. Nothing like those damn academics and swells who looked down on him and Stevie their entire lives.

“Most don’t see me when I’m on an engineering binge, in the lab, deep in the archives and footage research and development meetings, and yes, sometimes, in the board room. They underestimate me because I’m... me. But the other part of me is still me, and it’s to their detriment they forget it.”

“Duly noted, ma’am,” Bucky said, lifting his hands in mock surrender. 

“That’s _sir_ to you,” she retorted playfully, a smile curving her lips up just a little seductively. 

Bucky and Steve shivered, and Toni just barely missed it as she shifted her gaze. Holy damn, he and Steve were going to _die_. 

“But yeah, I mean, once I saw the pattern and the skillset needed, it was just a matter of applying myself, applying abilities from other aspects of my life, like multitasking—which I can do when I want, but not with all things, I’ll admit. I can be a bit of a mess with some things.” She looked a little chagrined and it was very… sweet.

…

That left them with a good twenty minutes to kill before they arrived at Breendonk, just south of Antwerp, but it was _not_ shaping up to be as awkward as Bucky had expected it was going to be, all things considered.

“That’s enough of that,” Toni said, flicking her fingers to the side in a show of dismissal, as if it wasn’t something insanely _amazing_ that she had just done. But, of course, she was a genius, Bucky reminded himself ruefully. “I’ve got the hang of it just fine.” She flashed them a wide, bright smile from where she was perched on her pack in the back of the truck they were riding in. The others were further towards the cab and studiously ignoring them. It was a large space, at least, them being the only ones in the rear of a personnel vehicle more used to seeing up to thirty men.

“Did I tell you that gay marriage has nearly been legalized back in 2009?” she continued, changing the subject abruptly.

Steve startled. “What?” he croaked.

Bucky was startled as well, but almost more so at the fact that she was acting so… normal. As if they weren’t…

It was like she was just pretending everything was normal. Like nothing was going on between them, like nothing had _happened_.

She was being willfully oblivious, is what she was doing.

Bucky glanced away quickly. He decided to check on the other Commandos, but quickly regretted it when Dum Dum caught his gaze.

* * *

**_Toni_ **

“So how does the war end, anyway?” Steve asked suddenly.

Toni bit her lip, digging her teeth in until the flesh was pinched white. “Uh…” She drew the syllable out.

It didn’t look like she _didn’t_ know, it was more like she didn’t want to tell them, for whatever reason.

“It’s not like it matters now, right?” Bucky cajoled, just as curious as Steve. It had been something _all_ of them had spoken about, every single soldier he’d ever met, to one degree or the other. All of them wondered what it would take to bring them home. What it would take to end it. “Whatever it was, it’ll either change, or the wheels are already in motion and it’s too late and too big to stop it, right?”

“You are a lot more right than you know,” she muttered. “But, uh, yeah. I just… don’t expect you’ll like the answer very much.”

…

“Sooo who was your favorite Commando?” Bucky asked with a sly grin, trying to bring some humor back into the solemn silence that had fallen.

“Well. _God_ , don’t get me started on how closely I guarded my Bucky Bear as a kid—” the man in question groaned while Steve practically cackled, “and Aunt Peg, who absolutely counts and you know it, has always been both the closest thing I had to family and larger than life, stranger than fiction… while everyone has their qualities, I…”

And here she came to a stuttering stop, because she realized that her next words would _matter_ so much more than most anything she’d say in her life, and she needed to choose her words with care.

She was also sort of… scared to open herself up again, even if things were going a lot better between her and the boys. But it wasn’t just _them_ —it was her too. She’d never really told anyone this, nobody except Peggy in part and Rhodey in full. It was… a weakness she learned to hide quite quickly as a child.

…

“Um… I… Steve was. Is. Uh,” she fumbled, feeling suddenly awkward as she realized they wouldn’t let her rest until she told them _why_. Told them _everything_.

[[She related the most to and loved Steve the most because she once was young and small (and female, with a lot of small Steve being female-coded, in a way) in a world that didn’t want to see her succeed. Her father tried to use the fact that Steve pushed beyond his limits against her, but he just didn’t understand she was trying in her own way, and pushing just as much. Instead of making her hate Steve, it made her understand Captain America in a way so few others could comprehend, alongside Peggy’s stories. This is going to change the dynamic between Steve and Toni that extra bit more I’m missing, having her admit this, having her connect with who he was, who so few people saw of him, as a young man… who he still was on the inside.]]

Tony grasped onto this change of topic with relief, never having found pleasure in discussing the apocalyptic bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, and then proceeded to fangirl over Steve and Bucky both for most of the rest of the way there.

Seeing them blush was worth every bit she lost by putting herself out there. Worth _every_ bit.

* * *

**_Steve_ **

During the final approach of a few miles, Steve settled himself on the task that was fast approaching. He wasn’t oblivious to what was going on around him—far from it—but he _was_ more determined, more aware of the broader picture, more focused on the task at hand, more focused on accomplishing his goals. More Captain America than Steve Rogers, but the _new_ Captain—not the one that sold bonds to swells and dames.

He knew they wouldn’t get into the fort itself, not initially, and so was unsurprised when their truck was met by a squad of men dressed in an assortment of rugged clothes, carrying all sorts of weapons. It didn’t hurt that Fort Breendonk was manned by cupola guns and howitzers, all of which Steve could see pointed at him.

_Them_ , he amended, as the rest of the Commandos, and Toni, jumped down from the back of the troop transport, and fanned out casually behind him. No one went for their guns, everyone had them strapped down or slung behind their back, just like they had talked about. Steve had his shield in its harness as well, though he _had_ taken off his jacket for a little easier maneuvering.

“Captain,” one man greeted as he stepped in front of the others. He was the only one who was not actively carrying his gun, instead leaving both pistol and shotgun strapped to each thigh.

…

“I’m really sorry for what happened here. I understand—” Steve was almost immediately cut off by the man’s heavily accented and angry English.

“You really don’t. You Americans have it easy. You stayed back on the sidelines, wouldn’t get your hands dirty. And even when you did deign to help us, all of your citizens are safe and sound in the homeland. You will _never_ understand.”

…

“Captain America has no say here. Neither does the S.S.R.”

“I know we don’t, and that _I_ don’t especially, but if we can just sit down and talk with you about some options…”

“I think not. My father was murdered here. My mother raped and beaten and barely came back alive. The people who did this to them were not only Germans—they were Belgians. Neighbors. _Traitors_ ,” he spit out the last. “It is not for you to tell us what to do with them. Let us deal with our own.”

“Please—” Steve took a step forward, hands stretched forward in supplication.

He froze as the Belgians shifted, lifting their weapons to get a better grip on them, to give them a better chance of tracking Steve if he or his teammates moved.

It wasn’t something he hadn’t faced before. There were any number of civilians he’d encountered who didn’t like him or what he represented, be they for or against the Nazis.

He flinched—just a little—as he heard cursing come from behind him. He kept one eye on the guards in front of him, but he did turn just enough so that he could catch a glimpse of Toni moving around a little frantically out of the corner of his eye. Because of _course_ it was her. His lips twitched up just a little in wry amusement, and then even further up as the guards’ frowns deepened.

Yeah, exactly his reaction when he first met her.

Now, though, it was sorta… funny.

“Hang on,” Toni mumbled before cursing again. “Damn it, this shit is somehow easier to put _on_ than to take off. Like, exactly the opposite of every other piece of clothing I’ve torn off over the years.”

Steve’s ears heated. He was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to have heard that last bit of muttering.

Everyone just… stood there and waited. It seemed rather odd, but really—everything to do with her had been odd from the start, and likely would continue to be. The Belgian men they were facing looked a little perplexed, but they waited all the same. Curious, just like the rest of them, at what this woman was up to.

Finally, there was a bit of a thump, followed by some laughter that seemed to come from Gabe’s direction, and then Toni was pacing past him… right into the line of potential gunfire. Even though the men had eased off on their stances it was _still_ an active situation.

Steve sighed, but let it be for the moment, especially when Bucky placed a hand on his forearm to stop any words before they could even begin.

_“We voelen ontzettend met u mee voor uw verlies,”_ Toni said softly, though clearly, directing her words at the group in front of her who obviously didn’t quite know what to do with her. **(“We’re so deeply sorry for your loss.”)**

That brought them up short—the guards and Commandos alike.

_“Mijn vaardigheden zijn een beetje roestig,”_ she continued with a gesture, _“het spijt me. Maar het is alleen beleefd om tot je te spreken in je eigen taal.”_ **(“My skills are a little rusty, I apologize. But it’s only polite to speak to you in your own language.”)**

Well then. That was surprising—though honestly, Steve really _shouldn’t_ have been surprised that Toni knew Dutch. She’d mentioned off-hand already that she knew German, Italian, Russian, and Japanese. Dernier had gone on at length about how her French accent was perfect, too. So Dutch? Yeah, not really that surprising in that context—even he and Bucky had picked up Dutch and the slightly different Flemish dialect just from being around soldiers and citizens from said countries, so it wasn’t _that_ surprising for a genius to know a couple more languages.

What _was_ truly surprising, though, was the fact that Toni had taken off a number of her layers, along with her weapons—obviously the thumping sounds he’d heard—apparently so that she could show that she was unarmed. She was down to boots, pants, and to the long-sleeve button-down shirt she wore beneath her jacket and fleece, tucked into the waist of her pants. Not a holster or strap or sling in sight, and the men before her visibly relaxed.

He could see, however, that the wires she’d shown them earlier that day were connected to the back of the wide band at her wrist; the one that would enfold and encase her hand. Never without a weapon, not truly. She didn’t seem the type.

_Definitely_ not.

Toni spread her hands in a gentle motion, letting them see that she was unarmed, and then stepped closer to the lead guardsman. She didn’t touch him, but she let her hands hover in front of her body, as if all she needed to do was reach just a little further and she could grip the man’s hands in her own. She continued in Dutch, her words flowing more easily as she went, “I can’t understand what you and your family went through, not truly. The pain, the fear, the despair… the worry for them and for others, for your whole country these past long years of war. It’s truly awful what’s been done to you, and I am so _very_ sorry for your loss and pain.

“There is one thing I can more than relate to, however: your desire for vengeance. Revenge. Making them pay. Hurting those who hurt you. Locking them up, even killing them. All that and more I’ve done. But I’ve not tortured them. Not needlessly.”

The man glowered, and the others behind him shifted angrily. She held up a hand and cut off whatever reprimand was going to come from his lips. “I’m not here to judge you. I’m not. I promise.” She bit her bottom lip, obviously thinking.

“Then what are you doing?” he asked bluntly.

“Toni—” Steve started.

“A year ago, I was gunned down, blown up, kidnapped, tortured, and held for three months.” Toni spoke right over him, ignoring Steve as if he hadn’t even tried to interrupt.

Her words were matter of fact, as if they didn’t hold a world of pain within.

Steve knew differently.

He didn’t know it _all_ , and he was sort of terrified of that unknown—for what it meant for the _pain_ and _despair_ she had felt—but he had pieced together some from what she’d told Bucky, from what he had seen for himself in that dream they had shared…

“I didn’t go through near as much fear or pain as your family did,” Toni continued. “What happened to me was nowhere near the fear and agony and death of you and yours. I don’t seek to compare myself to any of them, any of you, because I survived and was able to carry out revenge for what happened to me.”

The man scoffed, but he looked just the slightest bit uncertain.

He was listening, though. That was enough for now.

Steve tilted his head curiously in Toni’s direction as Bucky stepped a little closer to him, relaxed but ready to dive in if it looked like Toni needed any help. So far, it looked like she had it well in hand, but she had barely even begun to spin her charm around them. If only they knew.

_“Als je ons binnen zou kunnen laten, laten we kijken, ik beloof dat we niets zullen doen. We willen met u samemwerken. We willen helpen, zodat je dit niet meer alleen doet. Je landgenoten zijn bij je—degenen die niet naar de vijand zijn gegaan. Hier in het fort lijkt niemand bij je te staan, maar ze zijn er wel. Laat ze helpen, alsjeblieft.”_ **(“If you could just let us in, let us look, I promise we won’t do anything. We want to work with you. We want to help so you’re not doing this on your own anymore. Your countrymen are with you—those who did not go to the enemy. Out here, at the fort, it looks like no one stands with you, but they are there. Let them help, please.”)**

“When I was alone, I would have given the world to have help. To have more than the one man who was held with me. But we didn’t. I know now, however, afterwards… that the people looking for me would have given the world twice over to help, more than I ever could have imagined. If only they knew where I was—if only your countrymen knew you needed help, if only you asked—they would have helped, no question about it. They may not have been there for me during the months I was held prisoner, but they were there with me every step of the way afterwards. And they helped me bring the remaining men and women responsible for mine and other’s pain to justice. Let your countrymen help you.”

“What happened to you?” the man asked, curiosity further enveloping him.

“I was betrayed. Betrayed by my own family. I didn’t know it until later, but he was responsible for having me kidnapped. No one knew where I was. No one knew how badly injured I was, on the verge of death for weeks, held in a cold, damp cave in a desert. The man with me saved my life, but I’m left with the reminder, the repercussions every day. I was tortured, nearly drowned every day, because of who I am, what I represented, but also because they wanted something from me. They broke me apart but I was the one who put the pieces back together. If I hadn’t… I would have become just like them. I don’t want to see you become just like these SS bastards. You’re hurting, I know, like I was. You have to live with what happened, to you as a family and others as prisoners… the pain doesn’t stop when the war ends; don’t let it keep you down.”

Steve winced. He’d heard a little bit of this before, from what Bucky had learned over dinner a week ago, seen a little bit of this before in that one shared dream they’d had, could remember vividly the feel of the dampness pressing on his— _her_ —skin, the way the walls were closing in but also felt so massive and cavernous as well. Felt the cold, the pain, the hunger, the exhaustion…

But this… this… he wanted to wreck them. To ruin them. To lay waste to them. To—

“What did you do to them?”

**(“I killed them.”)**

Bucky let out a low rumble of approval, practically a growl, dark and satisfied. Something Steve rarely heard outside of bed, and it was directed all at Toni.

At Toni protecting herself, killing, enacting revenge on those who had wronged her.

Steve might be among the best of men, at least according to Erskine… but there would always be that part of him, deep inside, which was satisfied with vengeance.

“So, I must say what I am asking of you is a little hypocritical. What I did, in many ways, was worse than what you’re doing. But I offered them a quick death, instead of long, drawn-out torture and humiliation. I refused to do to them what they did to me. They were… are still human, for all that they did inhuman things. But these people you have here… they’re at your mercy. They’re not a threat within these walls. Don’t treat them like they did your family. Don’t let them pull you down to their level. Show them that you are better than they are. Don’t give them a justification for their hatred, no matter how good it feels, how right it feels. We’re not asking you to give up your post. We’re not asking you to release them. We just ask that you sit and meet with the government, perhaps with a mediator from the S.S.R., someone a little more impartial and who will have all parties’ interests at heart. Or to at least think about it. Would that be okay?”

“We don’t need the Americans to come in and save us,” he said in English, directed at Steve and the others over Toni’s head—but not nearly as gruff as he’d been earlier.

Progress. And probably all the quicker—or at all—because of Toni.

With her heartfelt words.

Words which Steve and Bucky—and the others, he was sure of it—would remember. It hit a chord deep within them, all of them, even though Steve hadn’t been the one held captive, forced to work, nearly starved to death, beaten… and they were the lucky ones. Even Bucky, despite being on the verge of death… he at least had survived, albeit as a changed man, inside and out.

He hadn’t personally torched and blown up the factory and laboratory his men had been held in for almost a month—but he sure as hell had been responsible for Hydra pushing the button to do so.

It had been deeply satisfying, but even as he’d walked back, exhausted, with his arm around the soulmate he’d nearly lost, leading men who would become like family to him… he’d wanted more. He’d wanted to lay waste to so much more. Raise it up and then raze it down, all over again.

He understood the place deep inside these people that was boiling to the surface. The place that wanted to hurt their captors the way that they had been hurt. He hadn’t quite seen it before Toni had laid it all out for them. For him.

He was seeing through _her_ eyes.

“Het spijt me,” Steve said gently, but loud enough that the distrusting men grouped before them could hear. He meant a lot more than just ‘sorry’, but he could wait to speak the rest of the words bubbling up inside of him. He could wait for Toni to spin her magic.

Toni smiled at that, smiled at _him_ over her shoulder, before switching fluidly back to English to respond to the Belgian man’s wary statement. “Believe me, I totally get it. We’re not here to save you, rescue you, take over… none of that. We were simply asked to check up on you. To make sure everything was okay. They’re worried about you. Yes, they, your own people, no matter the circumstances, would like it if certain… things could be halted, or at least paused temporarily, until they can come in and assess the situation. But… I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name, but I suppose that’s not important. Um. I’m Toni, by the way. But sir, what I’m trying to say is they just want to help. They also don’t want you to be arrested for war crimes— _not_ saying that’s going to happen, but I know that it’s at least a worry. The Belgian government already has enough to answer for, with some of its citizens working with the SS. They don’t want to have to answer for even more citizens, on what should be viewed as the _right_ side of this war. The just side.”

The man caught and held Toni’s gaze for a long minute, as if searching for something even while processing her words. Finally, he turned on his heel and spoke with two other older men in the group of guards at his back, engaging in a furious discussion in Flemish. Steve could hear enough to recognize the tone of it, but not quite make out the words.

Finally, they turned back towards them, and nodded. “We will meet with the Captain,” he said slowly, _almost_ uncertainly. “But only if you are there, Miss Toni. We will go from there. Please, come inside. All of you. We have tea, no coffee I’m afraid, and some biscuits.”

…

As they stepped through the gates, made their way slowly through the first building and out into the desolate courtyard, Steve could barely suppress his angry tears.

Toni’s shuddering caught Steve’s eye. “This really brings the horrors of the Holocaust that much closer, doesn’t it?”

He tilted his head in slight confusion. While he would definitely call the war horrifying, he hadn’t… “I’m not sure I’ve heard—”

“You don’t know about the Holocaust?” Toni interrupted, looking very… distraught. More than she had during the entire confrontation with the Belgians.

* * *

**_Toni_ **

Hours later, when they were making camp on the edge of a forest a few miles away from the fort, dusk settling in around them and mingling with the swift drop in temperature, Toni finally let out the words she’d been suppressing all day.

“You don’t know about the Holocaust?”

“The what?”

_Right_. That wasn’t super common even immediately after the war. “The Holocaust. The Jewish internment and labor camps.”

“Yeah, we know about those.” He made it sound like a question.

“But you said…” Her eyes widened. “Shit. _Shit_. Of course. You guys know about them, but you don’t know how _bad_ they were. We grow up learning about these things, part of our collective consciousness; _hell_ , even _I_ managed to absorb that information, despite having my head buried in engines since the time I was four. We just _know_. But you guys didn’t. You’ve known about them, but—”

“Toni?” Steve interrupted gently, reaching out and wrapping a loose but strong grip around each of her wrists and stilling her frantic movements.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she breathed, then drew the air back in with a loud, shaking inhale.

“They kill them. Millions of them. _Millions_ , Steve. The Jewish people, the Roma, the disabled, the gays and lesbians and anyone who even _looks_ at them sideways, and everyone who stood up against the party for those people. _Everyone_. Nearly, at least. Auschwitz, Dachau, places like here, even, apparently, though not nearly in as large a number as the extermination camps.”

“That many?” Bucky asked, looking sick. “That’s… Toni, they couldn’t have, that’s… they _couldn’t_.”

Toni could only nod. She felt completely off balance.

Suddenly she found herself pulled towards Steve, his arms wrapping tight around her, and she refused to cry— _she refused to_. But she was fighting a losing battle. Not just because of the topic, but also because she was being _comforted_. She was being held, consoled, shushed soothingly, in a way she hadn’t in, in…

Probably forever.

A small part of her was warning her not to get her hopes up, another telling her to relish what little sun shone on her, but the loudest part of her was telling her this had _nothing_ to do with them being soulmates and _everything_ to do with simple, human comfort.

It made it all the more special, since he was doing it because he _wanted_ to.

“We’ve known about them for a while,” Steve began after a moment, voice rumbling in his chest where it was pressed against her ear. He sounded upset, but he was tightly reining it in, as if once unleashed there would be no calming down. “It’s getting the rest of the world to believe it, because so few photographs have made their way out, and even then they’re called into question. People think we’re inflating the numbers, over-exaggerating any and all firsthand accounts from the mouths of survivors. For the longest time, the American people thought that it was just a ploy by the Allies to pull us into fighting ‘their’ war for them, and even the European citizens don’t _want_ to believe. They don’t see. They haven’t seen things like we have. I want to do more. I _have_ done more. But we have teams on it, and the Commandos have been better served providing distractions as other teams work, and they _have_ worked, to some extent. The Commandos, despite our start, are remarkably not very good at liberating those camps. We get too angry. Going after those in charge, however, especially Hydra, has shown to affect the camps. But we didn’t know it was that bad. No one in the intelligence community does, but now… Lord above, I’ll make sure someone knows. We’ll divert our full force towards them, if you can help us pinpoint some locations.”

Toni muttered into the front of his thick blue jacket.

“What was that?”

“They’ll just move them before you get there,” Toni mumbled, just a little more clearly and loud enough to hear. “They called them death marches, if I recall correctly. Whenever someone got close, and if they had somewhere to fall back to—i.e. the entirety of Germany—they would march the prisoners out and kill any on the spot who couldn’t make the journey. Kill them on the way, too.”

“God damn it,” she heard Bucky exclaim loudly, frustrated pain in his voice.

“We can try, though. We can try, but I feel like we’re too late,” Toni vowed. She finally let her tears fall, pressing her face more firmly into Steve’s chest, and allowing herself to be vulnerable… even if just for a few minutes.

She was so tired. So very tired.

And there was so much further to go.


	3. Alternate return to the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My long-standing partner, beta, friend, and occasional rescue-girlfriend Annaelle (@cuthian on Tumblr!) wrote this like... holy crow, I think this was an idea that came out of a brainstorming session we had in like **December of 2017, I’m not even joking** omg. 
> 
> To put it simply, I started writing Cross with absolutely zero clue about how to get Toni back to the future. I mean, I had some ideas... and so did Annaelle! She’s a huge Cherik (Xavier x Magneto, X-Men) fan and a big part of Erik/Magneto’s backstory is he was in a concentration camp of a sort (a lab rat for a higher up in the movies, but still a Jew and still received his numbered ID tattoo. It stands to reason that there would be other mutants in concentration camps, and I knew that I wanted to tackle the topic of the camps, etc. So Annaelle came up with a little sample snippet for me to ponder, whether to use or not, of a mutant encountered and rescued by the Howlies during a mission at a camp, one who’d been experimented on for his powers and developed a connection of a sort with the S.S.R. and Howlies. He recognized in Toni how she wS out of time and place, and asked her if she wished to go home. That he could do that for her. 
> 
> It wasn’t an easy decision.....

“Close your eyes.”

The older man’s voice was soothing and kind, but she still felt on edge, like her skin didn’t fit quite right anymore. Her heart was pounding and she felt lightheaded and she couldn’t quite focus on the things she was supposed to be focusing on.

Pepper. Rhodey. Happy.

Jarvis.

_Home_.

She tried her best to keep their faces on the forefront of her mind, but knowing Steve and Bucky were watching her—with Bucky’s fingers clenched around Steve’s bicep, Steve’s lower lip trembling even though he’d never admit out loud that he was hurting because of her decision to go—was infinitely distracting in ways she wasn’t even sure how to name.

They’d _begged_ her to reconsider.

To _stay_.

The image of Steve falling to his knees for her, eyes swimming with unshed tears as he apologised for being so afraid, for pushing her away, had _shattered_ her heart and she couldn’t stand to see him like that because of _her_ , but it had only strengthened her resolve.

They didn’t have a future.

Her boys were destined to die, and she didn’t think she was strong enough to be here to _see_ it.

She wanted to go home. She did.

But all she could think about now was the taste of Bucky’s lips and the soft way Steve sighed when she carded her fingers through his hair, and the way they’d held her, the way Bucky had taken her on double dates with Steve and Peggy and had shown her the forties in the best way possible, considering there was a war going on.

“Stop.”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked at the older man in confusion, unsure what to make of the compassionate way he regarded her. “What’s going on?” she demanded, refusing to let her eyes stray towards her soulmates. “I thought you were supposed to be sending me home?”

His smile was soft and kind, but her heart still skipped a beat when his eyes strayed to where Steve and Bucky stood before he met her gaze again. “You are home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ultimately I (obviously) did not go through with turning this snippet into a full-fledged concept to get Toni back to the future. I’m pleased with what I have (of which Annaelle also helped me figure out because she is a _fucking goddess_ )...
> 
> ... but I wanted to share this small piece as an insight into how different this story could have been. How over the years our thinking has changed and altered but how we still cherish the ideas we had in the past. Because our past thoughts are as much a part of the ‘canon’ story as what it presently is. :)
> 
> Hope all of you are as well as can be! I’m finally starting to get back into writing, but the good news is that the two 10-15k fics I have to write are actually partly completed already!   
> — — I was previously writing a Pacific Rim AU but that’s been scrapped in lieu of a Steve/fem!Tony soulmark Iron Man identity porn fic (which is coming along _awesomely_ and I promise to share a snippet of it on Tumblr (@juuls) soon because if I don’t share my happy I will probably burst! This one is for ishipallthings.   
> — — The second fic is a wolf!Bucky fic where fem!Tony has known the wolf since she was a young child, even if she doesn’t know who the wolf is (or if it’s a person at all) until Avengers-time. Not sure if that’s going to be WinterIron or Stuckony, but I’ll let the fic decide. :) Or @betheflame, whom the fic is for. 
> 
> Then back to Cross! But I’ll post some more outtakes here in the meantime. Found a few I’d like to share!
> 
> And now that both the top and bottom notes are longer than this ‘chapter’.... I bid you adieu. Take care of and all the best to you and yours. Never forget you’re beautiful in more than just one way. 
> 
> ❤️💙💜💖


	4. Bits from around ~11,12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These short little blurbs didn't quite make it into the chapter 11 and 12 ish area of the fic as it currently stands, at least not in the exact same form. :) Short little bits, but I think they're at least slightly insightful!
> 
> Stay sane and safe, loves. <3

“How would you feel if you were 70 years out of time, Steve? She needs our help, punk. She’s all alone. And I can’t do it without you. Never without you. But if she thinks for a moment that we’re taking pity on her… damn, you’ve seen her. I could just tell that if she thought someone was paying lip service she’d clam right up and allow no one in. But she needs help and I can tell you see it too. I can tell you want to help. But I’m not leaving you. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s it. We don’t leave the other behind. Till the end of the line, right, punk? But it doesn’t mean we can’t pick up some strays along the way. Just look at the Commandos. At Peggy. Even goddamn Howard. We always have room in our hearts to help others, and it doesn’t have to go beyond that type of family.”

* * *

He moistened his lips, pausing for a moment to gather himself, and then spoke. “Toni, can I just take you to dinner for right now? We can deal with all the rest later, if and when it comes up again, but for right now I don’t expect anything out of you. Not tonight, not ever. You don’t owe me anything. Everyone else thought this would be a good idea, set things up for the public eye, establish your place here… And while I think it’s good to give you a cover and reason for being here, we don’t have to do it by pretending. We can let everyone else assume what they will, get to know each other, be friends, and just… have dinner. Continue to have dinner, and not just with me. With everyone else, too. For tonight, maybe we just placate the rumor mill and gossipmongers and the busybody Howlies, but after that I’ll make sure everyone else knows what your wishes are on this subject, and we’ll figure it out. Okay? I’m sorry for people not consulting you on this subject, but… dinner?” And he held out his hand for her to shake, offering it to her with the challenging quirk of an eyebrow.

* * *

“Whose bright idea was it to pass Toni and Bucky off as a soulmated couple to the public without really thinking it through?” Everyone looked at Steve, who promptly turned bright red—most of it embarrassment, not anger, thankfully.

“I just… didn’t really want Howard to try and bother her, and I knew that there were only two people he would leave her alone for, soulmate connection or no: Me ‘n Bucky. And I’m kinda taken? Unfortunately I sorta, um…” He cleared his throat. “I sorta just acted without thinking and kissed her hand in front of everyone else, you and Howard included, and um, it kinda got out of hand from there?” He looked _quite_ uncomfortable.

Philips rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, next time use that tactical brain of yours in _conjunction_ with others, y’hear me?” Steve nodded. “It’s good to see that you still had decent intentions as far as Ms. Rhodes went, at least. But now we’re on this path, so we’ll just follow it. Nobody to blame but you, Rogers, for getting us—and yourself—into this public relations nightmare, but at least most people aren’t paying attention to things that we’re not deliberately telling them ourselves. It _is_ war, and most of the time you’re out on the field. So there is that.


	5. Steve's major turning point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So pretty much all of this is different in exact words from the official [Chapter 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11727852/chapters/43360757) from Cross, but you'll recognize a lot of the same sentiment. I struggled a lot with this chapter, thus there being a lot of content for it, because Steve was being an asshole before this and I knew he needed to change. _I as the author and even a fan_ needed him to change, but his thought process had to make sense. It couldn't just be like *snap* oh suddenly he's in love.
> 
> So here! Take a look at part of my process for Steve's process. ;) And a bit more backstory for my two S.S.R. original characters who made their first appearance here! 
> 
> Hope you like the insight. :)
> 
> Much love, and don't let anyone tell you that hope is lost. Fight to the last breath. Fight for the rest of the world, Americans. Please. Do it for us, if not for your own future. To the last day. We have your back. Love, the world.
> 
> <3

“Okay, that’s everything I can teach you unless I throw you in the English Channel. Can we do that? No? Okay, but that’s awfully disappointing, ma’am. Samantha, anything we might’ve forgotten?”

“I think that’s it, but I support the idea of tossing them all in the Channel and watching them try to raid the docks.”

“Pretty sure that’ll get the boys killed, Sam,” Peggy said with a smirk. “Everyone’s on edge these days.” She said it just a little too lightly.

“Sink or swim it is, then!” Alexander Donnelly laughed as he unbuttoned his uniform’s jacket, officially signaling the end of the lesson. 

As much as in that moment Steve wanted to up and run and find Bucky, he also knew he couldn’t for a variety of reasons. So, instead, he settled back more comfortably in his chair, unbuttoning his own jacket, and glanced at the others who shared the space with him—and would for at least another half hour as they conversed casually, now that the lesson was over. 

But first his gaze landed on the clock, of course, though it hadn’t changed much in the last, well, three and a half minutes since he’d last looked at it.

It was only just past 7:30 in the evening, and Steve just wanted to go back to his and Bucky’s shared room, never mind the fact that Bucky wouldn’t be there for over another hour more.

At that thought, a scowl threatened to escape onto his features, and he was pretty sure he was thoroughly unsuccessful at keeping it at bay because he received a boot to the shins.

That, at least, he was far more successful at not reacting to, seeing as he’d had a lot of experience with being kicked by _that_ pair of high heels over the last many, many, _many_ months.

Steve decided to ignore the dark-haired lady by letting his eyes deliberately sweep over the room.

The room Steve’s lessons took place in was, in essence, a small, out-of-the-way office that had kind of been forgotten until Philips dug it up and put Steve in there for additional training. It was in a remote corner of the base, a good ten-minute walk from the main hangar and in a separate building altogether. 

Bucky had grumbled the first time he and Steve had made their way there, but he’d grown more appreciative of its isolated state the first time he and Steve had somehow managed to be the only ones left after one of the lessons. Steve ducked his head when his cheeks burned, and a smile tugged at his lips—Bucky could be insatiable, when given the right incentive. 

Steve had been more than happy to provide said incentive. 

He still couldn’t look at the desk in the front of the room without blushing so hard he feared he’d pop a blood vessel. He was pretty sure Peggy knew, because… well, because she was _Peggy_. 

She knew everything. 

Just like she knew that he’d somehow managed to hurt Toni, even when he had been trying not to. 

Steve groaned and let his head fall forward until it smacked heavily and loudly onto the solid wood of the conference table in front of him.

He could hear Peggy’s soft laughter coming from the seat next to his and was glad for it—it meant that she’d forgiven him his latest idiocy—even if her laughter was at his expense.

Well, he _probably_ could have hit the table a little less forcefully; that was going to smart for a little bit and he probably had a nice red mark on his pale skin that clashed terribly with his service jacket.

“Care to share with the class, Captain?” came Major Donnelly’s gruff, though amused, voice.

Steve groaned, safe in the knowledge that he could relax around the four others in the room with him at the moment. “I’m just an idiot,” he mumbled into the tabletop.

“Hmm, why is this a surprise?” Dum Dum drawled, long practice allowing for Steve to tell without looking that his second-in-command was speaking around the cigar in his mouth.

“Shut your pie hole.”

“Children,” Peggy mock-chastised them, but her heart certainly wasn’t in it. They were always like this, to varying degrees of severity, at each and every lesson. 

Major Donnelly didn’t even ask if he could resume, he just did. As Alexander’s voice started to fill their small room once more, Steve found himself paying a bit less attention than he really should be—though he still kept one ear out for the important stuff in this lesson on amphibious assaults. If he was right, they’d be needing to use this soon, but he found it impossible to devote his whole attention, his all, to what was being said. To something that usually held his eager attention.

Not when he realized how much of an _ass_ he’d been these last couple of days.

He really was an idiot, just like he’d said to the others moments ago. But it had taken him really _thinking_ about where Toni came from for him to start putting himself in her shoes—as best he could, at least. There was so much he, they, didn’t know, but so much that could be inferred, and it certainly helped when Peggy filled him in on a few key details and observations from her talk with the older woman earlier that day.

Peggy had said there was something truly vulnerable hiding behind Toni’s tough exterior, something she’d seen in people who’d had a hard time growing up. Something that made them stronger, but also so much weaker in other ways…

And then Steve had just gone and stomped all over her, one more time in her life, and rejected her. One more person, being an ass to someone who shared the same hollowed-out look—when she didn’t realize she was being watched—as some of the alley kids he’d known growing up.

Still… No. He had _every right_ to reject her, but he didn’t have to be such a jackass about it all. Even when he’d been explaining himself to her that morning, after the three of them had shared that nightmare, he had been ruder than he should’ve been.

He couldn’t entirely blame himself, but…

Steve sighed, keeping the sound and motion as quiet and small as possible. Only Peggy seemed to notice, but the way her eyes softened when they met his glance showed that she seemed to understand.

Peggy had always seemed to be on pretty much the same wavelength as Steve. She was just… she was amazing.

And Toni could be too. She was so like Peggy, and he could see so many of Peggy’s mannerisms in Toni that it was uncanny—it made so much more sense now that Peggy had informed him that she was in Toni’s life pretty seriously when she was a child.

Wait.

Could she… could she be…?

Steve shot a furtive glance at Peggy when she looked away, taking in her features—as if they weren’t already ingrained in his mind’s eye. They were… similar, but not similar enough. Toni certainly had too much Mediterranean in her, from what he could tell, like the Italian families who filled the apartments two blocks over back in Brooklyn. Plus, Peggy had said she didn’t get that feeling from the other woman… though she couldn’t rule it out. She’d been close-lipped on a lot of things, Toni had, but she’d said her father worked with the S.S.R. and Project Rebirth, and that that was how she’d met Peggy—through her father.

Still.

All that aside, Steve again told himself he had the right to reject her, but he’d been a right ass about it. _Plenty_ of people met and rejected new soulmates before the first or even the final bond could form, and they did it without being a great big lumphead. Mind you, none of the cultural norms surrounding soulmate rejection dealt with triadic bonds— _but_ ! That didn’t mean he had to throw everything his ma had taught him about being a proper, dignified, and courteous human being right out the window. In some ways it was like he was walking all over her grave, and _that_ was what really drew him up short in all this. He hadn’t handled it well _at all_ , all this new soulmate stuff, but… he figured he could be cut a _little_ bit of slack. The idea that there was someone out there who was as much a match for Bucky as _he_ was…? Damn, that was a damn hard pill to swallow. 

He’d always been possessive of Bucky. 

But he needed to get his act together. Toni needed someone. She needed multiple someones. They didn’t have to be her soulmates, but there was no reason that they _couldn’t_ be there for her—in fact there was every reason they _should_ be.

They didn’t need to have a relationship in order to be there for her. Not one beyond something like, say, between him and Bucky and the Howlies and Peggy. That was damn close, but it wasn’t like they were all in a _relationship_ together. 

They were still _family_.

Steve was just being a coward, and he needed to stop it. The woman needed them. She was alone in this world, and Steve vowed then and there, even if just to himself in that moment, that he would help her. He would fight for her, and perhaps in the process he might be able to undo the damage he’d done—both on purpose and unintentionally.

 _See, Bucky?_ he thought towards his partner. _I’m not entirely hopeless. Sometimes even I can be aware and mature about things_.

Steve knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he had to do it.

Because Steve Rogers had made a vow to himself and his ma long ago that he would _always do what was good._ That vow had then been sealed once again in Erskine’s blood, and his faith that Steve was truly a good man; one of few left in the world, it seemed at times. And doing wrong by Toni was anything but right, anything but being a good, unselfish man. He knew that they could find balance, that they could find what worked for the three of them. And they could do it all on the way to figuring out exactly who Toni was and why she’d been sent back in time, and back to _them_ , at that. 

That sort of thing only happened in science fiction books, and even then there was always a purpose.

They would just have to find it.

Even if he didn’t like having to upset the balance he had only just found again with Bucky.

He had to do _good_ by her, like he would with anyone.

He’d promised.

That settled in his mind, Steve felt himself relaxing a little bit more, both emotionally and also physically into his seat. 

He sort of wanted to tell Peggy and Dum Dum about what he’d just realized, but now was not the time nor the place. They all trusted Major Donnelly and Captain Schofield with their operational secrets—they were members of the S.S.R. even if they were both still beholden to the American and Canadian armies, respectively… but that was much the same for the rest of the members of the S.S.R.

No, it was the matter of the Howling Commandos’ soulmate _mess_ that they didn’t really trust the other two with. Steve was sure that they would be trustworthy, but he and the others hadn’t come this far, lasted this long, with trusting more than the bare minimum of people they needed to—and that amounted to only trusting family.

Because they most certainly _were_ a family. Are. 

They’d been through everything together, and had earned the level of trust that Bucky and Steve had placed in their hands with their secret… and they in turn were trusted with Peggy and Dum Dum’s secret, with Morita’s lost, male soulmate who was more to him than anyone else had ever, _ever_ known, and trusted with so many more secrets and truths and hopes and ambitions…

It was heady, that kind of trust. It was heady, and something that Steve would _die_ to protect. He always would. Each and every time.

Donnelly and Schofield—Alexander and Samantha—hadn’t quite achieved that with the Howlies yet. Perhaps not ever.

But they were, at least, the next best thing after family. They were _friends_.

When Colonel Philips had realized Steve was there to stay and that he had quite effortlessly inserted himself into the hearts, loyalties, and, well, right near the top of the command structure of the 107th and other soldiers… there was nothing to it but to essentially requisition multiple country’s soldiers, rescued by Steve after Azzano, for use in the S.S.R., and to give Steve an official promotion in the U.S. Army. 

That promotion came with strings attached, however. Foremost among the more obscure conditions—one of the most reasonable, Steve thought—was that he would need to gain his ranks in private, even if everyone else thought he was already the rank of captain. 

So he was allowed his group of commandos, but Dugan and Bucky—promoted to Master Sergeant and First Sergeant respectively—were placed as his second and third, and tasked with instructing him on the field. But not before he was given a week-long crash course in command and tactics in advance of their first mission. 

Tasked with _that_ had been Major Alexander Fitzgerald Donnelly of the U.S. Army—of the famed special forces group called the Devil’s Brigade, so named initially by their enemies in Italy—and Captain Samantha Diane Schofield of the Canadian Armed Forces—from a special women’s force that had been formed in conjunction with the S.S.R. and the approval of Britain and her colonies. 

Steve hadn’t even had to ask if Peggy’d had anything to do with the formation of _that_ group. 

Both Alexander and Samantha were highly competent at command, and they imparted as much of that knowledge as they could to Steve—and Bucky, Dugan, and Peggy when they were able—when he was on the ground with the S.S.R. They went through all manner of lessons and scenarios and codes of combat and morality and the rules of war, tactics and military history, command structure, and more. 

It was a _lot._ But nothing that Steve hadn’t been able to handle over the last year. After that first, successful, week-long crash course, he’d personally requested that these two were assigned as his mentors, his teachers, whenever their combined operations schedules allowed—and Phillips made it happen.

To the public, he was Captain America. To the military at large, he was Captain Steven Grant Rogers. To this small group, the Commandos, and his superior officers, however, he had been at first a cadet, then a first lieutenant, and now a second lieutenant. After this next mission, though, he would _finally_ be a captain in truth. 

Pending how he did, of course. 

He wouldn’t stop receiving specialized training afterwards, however, as the S.S.R. definitely had plans for him to go further, even if he himself wasn’t too sure of how high he wanted to go.

He liked the field—he _relished_ in the field. Excelled. 

Steve knew he’d break desks if he climbed too high and was subsequently shuffled off the field. 

Rather, he’d probably end up breaking _people_ , because command often seemed to consist of a bunch of grey areas that Steve absolutely could not abide. He’d either wreck the entire system, or take it over—either way, it was probably best if he stayed just where he was.

Maybe with just a _little_ more leeway, though.

He just hoped like hell that none of this would blow up in his face—as seemed to be the norm. But if… _when_ it did, it wasn’t like he hadn’t gone through the fire and flames to make things right before. 

He knew what he had to do, and it all started with getting on the same page as Bucky.

*

Soon after the five of them had settled into a comfortable conversation—including some questions about Toni which Peggy helped him tactfully navigate—the door opened. The only thing that stopped Steve from tensing up and eyeing the door like the four others did—well, three, because Peggy was too calm and cool to let much like this startle her—was that seconds before the door had opened, Bucky had opened up their connection, clean and clear, allowing Steve to sense exactly where Bucky was, and how he was feeling.

He’d had practice in hiding the goofy grin that always wanted to creep across his features when he saw Bucky, but it was still fortuitous in this instance that Samantha and Alexander were focused on the door.

Peggy patted his thigh beneath the table as Bucky laughed and grinned and greeted the others, granting him the strength to not leap out of his chair and wrap Bucky up in his arms when his soulmate greeted him from across the room, practically electrifying Steve’s nerves. It allowed him to keep his seat, and to settle himself back into it as Bucky settled into his own chair on the other side of the table from him.

He listened attentively as Bucky gave a short recap of his ‘date with his newfound soulmate’ and was even able to stop himself from grinding his teeth. Even though Bucky kept it cool and smiled at all the right moments, answering the questions he wished to and deflecting those he didn’t with ease that came naturally to him, Steve was being reassured through their bond with flashes of feeling and emotions, most specifically with love.

Love for him.

That, combined with Bucky’s easy and quick deflection of the topic onto other things, showed Steve that Bucky was trying to keep it all private from everyone else, and be as open as possible with Steve, in every way he could.

There was a little something darkening Bucky’s mood, but it was mild enough that Steve knew it could easily wait until later.

Well, it would have to wait until _much_ later, it seemed, as twenty minutes into the new addition to their conversation, yet another person arrived at the door.

It was one of Colonel Philips’ runners, and he, Bucky, Peggy, and Dum Dum were being called to an emergency meeting with their commanding officer.

Only a handful of things would have the man calling all four of them to his office at this time.

Most of them were _not_ good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. lol at Steve thinking Toni is Peggy's daughter. I mean... who else wouldn't have thought the same!? xoxoxo ;D


End file.
